Coming In From His Run, Harlow Didn't Pay Much Mind To The Mess That His Shoes Were Making On The Freshly

Coming in from his run, Harlow didn't pay much mind to the mess that his shoes were making on the freshly mopped floor. "Guess you'll have to do them again then, huh?" Harlow grinned as he paced around the circumference of the kitchen island, closing in as much space as Lyrion put between them. Harlow shed the athletic shirt he was wearing, letting it drop in a sweaty heap behind him as he continued to move in. "Oops."

@manscend

"I just mopped these floors!" As he looked from the muddy footprints to Harlow, Lyrion's expression changed: annoyance giving way for playful concern. "No." He backed away, making sure the kitchen island separated them, as he noted the glistening sheen of sweat on his lover's body and the gleam in his eyes. "I just showered. Don't you dare." He took another step back, "I already finished my chores: it's not fair to scent me now!"

"I have another contest in the Summer," Ben explained as he flexed for his son while Jaime appraised him. "But hey- hey, what's the rush. Go to a couple parties and suddenly you're too cool to shoot the shit with your old man?" Ben stood over his son who was his mother in every way that mattered, petite, toned, and those damn eyes. "Did you have fun, huh?" Ben playfully clipped his son's chin as he asked, "Do anything dumb?" Twenty questions came with the territory but he was a bit buzzed himself and it felt like Jaime was just going to be gone soon. Done with college, out of the house, and then how often would they see each other? Times like this didn't last forever.

Jaime cursed himself under his breath as he was caught. He hoped he could have tip-toed to his bedroom without a lecture. “Coming.” He said with a sigh. He gave his half-naked dad a once over, it was like living with Hercules. His insecurities had been resolved in therapy years ago, so now, he only admired his dad’s hard work and discipline. “You look good, dad. Are you bulking right now?” He asked nonchalantly, trying to get the heat off him. “Your pecs look bigger." He playfully punched his dad on his left pec, and shrugged. "My phone died. Sorry. I'll buy one of those charging cases next time. Can I go to sleep now? I'm beat."

They'd been having fun. Sure, Elijah had given him the heads up that he might race out, but that was a standard line guys used as an exist strategy. Shit, it was his line in case the guy he went home with started grating on his nerves or something. Duncan thought that the two of them were having a good time but it was possible he'd misread the situation completely; here they were though, sat opposite from each other because fate had a sick sense of humor. Duncan wasn't sensitive, but he didn't know anyone that handled rejection well.

When they were alone, Elijah finally addressed the elephant that had settled between them. Foul mood temporarily dispelled, Duncan's gaze shifted from the glass he'd been fiddling with; the other night was fun, so he was in no way opposed to a repeat. Duncan just wasn't interested in getting burned again, still, he asked because Elijah was- well. He was hot, and had more to him than just an online persona - which was rare these days. "Alright. Shoot." He leaned in a bit against the table, interested once again piqued. "How are you going to make it up to me?"

open to: fellow medical professionals (eli himself is a paramedic), fire-fighters, l.e.o.s, etc, (muses/fcs 30yo+ only pls!) scenario: this! elijah’s personality: youngest child syndrome. sensitive but tries his best not to show it. happy-go-lucky. playful. loyal. people-pleaser. reckless. adventurous. despite having excellent examples of happy and healthy relationships from seeing what his sister and brother have in their respective lives, eli is terrified of commitment. he knows it’s something he wants some day, to have a partner in life, but he’s yet to go beyond the occasional dating app hook-up because he hates disappointing people.

          “Would you knock it off with the death-glare already?” To say the meal had been awkward was quite the understatement; he’d had plans to meet up with a couple of co-workers and their friends for brunch that morning, just to walk in to find someone at their table that he’d slept with two nights prior. Ghosting them truly had been regrettable, he hadn’t actually had that much fun in years, but duty called and he was embarrassed to say he’d completely spaced on leaving them an apology note on his way out.

          “I was on call the other night, I told you it was well within the realm of possibility that I might have to dip,” Eli sighed, his voice returning to a normal speaking volume once they were left alone at the table, ‘and now that I know you run somewhat parallel to my work I’m surprised you’re not cutting me some slack. Listen, I’m more than willing to try to make it up to you if you give me a chance, so what do you say?”

Richard Harmon and Jordan Buhat Margaux (2022) dir. Steven C. Miller

Jordan Buhat - Margaux